


The Truth Is Out There (Somewhere)

by ircnman (halfthyme)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Aliens, Alternate Universe - X-Files Fusion, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cryptozoology, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Everyone is older, Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, M/M, Monsters, Slow Burn, allura basically runs the fbi, and i am a huge nerd, coran is a gorgeous man, hunk is an engineer who builds their tech, keith is a conspiracy theorist, lance has an Actual Cuban Last Name, lance is a skeptic, pidge is a hacker gremlin, shiro was abducted by aliens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-11-18 17:20:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11295195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfthyme/pseuds/ircnman
Summary: Who is he? And what is he doing in Keith’s (admittedly cluttered) office?“What are you doing here?” he asks, with a hint of poison and his trademark who-do-you-think-you-are eyebrow arch.The guy shrinks back a little, clearly confused and, Keith hopes, a little intimidated. “I, uh, was looking for this X Files thing? Supposed to meet down here, in a tiny basement?”“You’re in the right place.”Navy Blue, as Keith is now calling him, seems to relax, putting more of his weight on the doorway and shifting his box to a one-handed grip. “Oh, good, I was worried I had the wrong ominously-marked supply closet.”Alternatively: Lance is a skeptic. Keith is a believer. What could possibly go wrong?





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I've spent a lot of time thinking and hyping and answering asks on my tumblr, and the X Files au is finally here!
> 
> As a warning: this is my first multichapter fic, so updates probably won't be consistent. That said, I will leave updates and stuff on my tumblr, so if you want to know what's going on, find out why I'm not updating, or want to collaborate/draw me some fan art, that's the best place to go.
> 
> Chapter 1 is unbeta'd since my lovely bro is on vacation... If you see any mistakes, please let me know!
> 
> (And of course, a disclaimer: Dreamworks owns Voltron: Legendary Defender, and Fox Media owns The X Files. I'm not Dreamworks or Fox Media, so there's that. Cool. Go read.)

[BEGIN TRANSMISSION.]

Lance is working at his desk, as usual, before everything changes. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the flash of a suit and a manila file. Pretending to be uninterested, he focuses back on the computer. Except the suit stops in front of him, which is definitely not normal.

“Lance Fuentes?” the suit asks, except it doesn’t really ask, just states it like the suit knows the answer already. 

Lance nods once, fast and sharp. “How can I help you?” 

“You’re being transferred. Everything you need to know is in the folder.” The suit lays it down on the edge of the desk. “I’d recommend you pack up.”

Lance sputters, but the suit’s already leaving. “Dammit,” he grumbles, and picks up the file. Inside is a briefing on something, titled in bold as the X Files (whatever that is), which he scans quickly and puts down.

All he gets out of it is that they don’t want him around anymore, and he’s moving to a basement. A basement, of all places!

Lance picks it back up and flips through a couple more pages until he gets to what he lovingly refers to as  the “what the hell am I even supposed to do” section. All it says is the room number and a name, Keith Kogane. 

Lance recognizes the name: Keith had been top of the class at the academy, but didn’t apply for a top job. In fact, no one had any idea what he’d been doing or where he’d gone. A couple months ago there was a rumor that he’d almost gotten kicked out of the Bureau, but the rumors quieted down when nothing else happened.

He hopes he’ll learn something about whatever the hell’s been going on lately, and not get killed in the process. 

That does tend to happen in his line of work.

Lance rolls his shoulders back, already cringing at the amount of packing up he’ll have to do. He’ll probably convince Hunk to help with most of it. He scans the area, looking for his friend, but can’t find him. On lunch break, maybe.

He sweeps the contents of his desk into a box - a snowglobe with a pineapple in it from Hunk, some funny bobbleheads he found at a comic store, and tiny clay sculptures he made in his free time - and labels it with his name. Hefting it into his arms, he makes his way to the elevator. No way is he taking the stairs.

A few minutes later, Lance finds himself outside of what looks like a closet door, paint splashed across it in a messy black X. He stares at it for a moment, wondering if the X on his briefing was a coincidence, or if they’re related somehow. 

He shakes the strange thoughts out of his head and swings open the door.

X

Keith’s day was going fairly well until his door burst open. 

He’s been idly going through his email and browsing UFO sighting websites for the last couple of hours, but the slam of the door hitting the wall makes him flinch violently. Swivelling his chair around, he glares at the doorway.

A lanky guy in a well-cut dark blue suit (stop ogling the nice suit, Keith) leans against the frame. He’s clutching a box with the name “Fuentes” written in messy handwriting on it. 

Keith eyes him as if approaching a feral cat. Suits don’t come down here often, and this guy doesn’t look like he’s brought a new case - there’s no manila folder in his hands. 

Which begs the question: who is he? And what is he doing in Keith’s (admittedly cluttered) office?

“What are you doing here?” he asks, with a hint of poison and his trademark who-do-you-think-you-are eyebrow arch. 

The guy shrinks back a little, clearly confused and, Keith hopes, a little intimidated. “I, uh, was looking for this X Files thing? Supposed to meet down here, in a tiny basement?”

“You’re in the right place.”

Navy Blue, as Keith is now calling him, seems to relax, putting more of his weight on the doorway and shifting his box to a one-handed grip. “Oh, good, I was worried I had the wrong ominously-marked supply closet.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Why are you here?”

Navy Blue shrugs. “Hell if I know. Suits sent me down here. The name’s Lance, by the way. Lance Fuentes.” He offers a dazzling grin in Keith’s direction.

Keith scowls at him. Like hell is this - admittedly handsome - stranger going to get the best of him. "Do you even know what we do here?"

Lance's smile drops. "Well, it's definitely not 'have fun', so there goes that."

"Are you able to take anything seriously?" Keith shoots back. "Or did you actually think that working at the FBI was the professional equivalent of Chuck E. Cheese's?" This man is practically a stranger, but Keith's blood is boiling now. And an angry Keith means an irrational, bad-decision-making Keith. This stranger - Lance, he thinks - and his feelings are the least of his problems.

"At least I don't look like I time-traveled from the 80s, mulletbrain!"

"How is that relevant? Besides, mulletbrain isn't even a good insult!"

Both men raise their voices in order to yell over each other. Keith isn't sure who moves first, but with each insult hurled, they come closer and closer together. By the time the door creaks open, they're practically at each other's throats and red in the face from screaming. 

They don't even notice the stranger's entrance until the lights go out.

X

It takes a couple of seconds for their eyes to adjust. Almost all of the computers are off, save for one, bathing the room in a dim blue glow. The hallway's light is harsh and white and impossible to look at directly, causing both men to look away. Lance curses under his breath and takes out a pair of sunglasses. 

The scene dims and he can look towards the doorway again. He can see a tall silhouette, seemingly female, with long flowing hair. The light from behind her forms an otherworldly halo of pale light. Lance takes a step back, either in awe or shock, and promptly trips over a chair. The cold cement floor does nothing to cushion his fall.

The light flickers back on to reveal a dark-skinned woman holding onto the door frame as her entire body shakes with laughter. Her hair is perfectly white and somehow looks natural. 

She's easily the most beautiful person Lance has ever seen. 

She had seemed tall even while hunched over with laughter, but when she finally straightens up and wipes her eyes she's at least six feet. Her face changes slightly, becoming more serious, and the mood of the entire room shifts.

Lance gulps, remembering how close he and Keith had just been and the horrible things they'd said. He glances over at the other man, who seems slightly nervous. Keith runs his hands through his hair, creating an even messier style. Lance snickers quietly, receiving a glare from the dark-haired man. He shuts up, figuring he probably doesn't look much better, and turns his attention back to the doorway.

The woman doesn't seem amused anymore. She stares at both of them as if daring them to laugh again. If looks could kill, they would probably be shackled in a basement and tortured by now.

The air is thick with tension, except Lance has no idea what's going on. 

Keith finally speaks up. "Why did you send him? What's even the point of this?" He gestures at Lance, as if he's just an object on a table.

Lance grumbles, "Excuse me?" 

Then she speaks. "Quiet, both of you." 

They immediately shut up, but continue to glare at each other. 

She continues. "I'm sure you are wondering why you are here, Lance. I will explain soon, but not here. You and Keith must learn to work together, both as partners and as part of a team.  There is clearly much for you both to learn." 

Lance nods, barely resisting the urge to blurt out a pickup line. He knows he'll make a fool out of himself at some point, but he's not sure he wants it to be now. Not after that slightly ominous statement about "learning to work together".

The woman gestures for the two of them to follow her. Lance suddenly realizes that he doesn't know her name, and quickly notices that she also doesn't have a badge on. A little unusual, but maybe she left it at her desk? He figures that her forgotten badge isn't really his business, but does pipe up and ask, "What's your name? I thought I knew all the pretty girls in this building, but I guess I don't."

Keith rolls his eyes next to him. Lance gives him a slight nudge in the ribs with his elbow.

The woman whirls around. She's clearly angry, her fists visibly clenched and eyebrows furrowed. "If you were not so important to the team, your unnecessary comments would have landed you in the worst part of this building faster than you can say quiznak."

"Oooh, the dungeon. Scary."

"Not the dungeon, the cubicles. Doing the five years of paperwork you never finished filling out."

Lance gulps and shuts his mouth for the second time today.

The woman ignores Keith's low chuckle. "My name is Allura, and you may only refer to me as such. Now please follow me so that I may finally explain what's going on."

They follow Allura down several hallways. Nothing is marked, and each hallway looks like a mirror image of the last. There are no doors, no signs, nothing but harsh white light and blank walls. The only sounds are their shoes on the shining white tiles, echoing through the long halls.

After what feels like hours, they reach a single doorway. It slides open with a quiet whoosh, and they step into the future.

[END FIRST TRANSMISSION.]


	2. Red String Genius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where things unravel, puzzle pieces are found, and geniuses are introduced.
> 
> NOTE: added tags for slow burn and aged-up characters. trigger warning for implied kidnapping at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost named this chapter after the second episode of X Files Season One, but I couldn't do it. I just couldn't. (Please google it if you don't know what I'm talking about.)
> 
> OKAY big fat apology for this coming about a month after the first chapter. I'm an asshole and I'm sorry (but considering the fact that it took three months to write the first chapter, I'd at least say I've improved).
> 
> Also, this was written mostly at midnight without a beta (who is now at camp instead of in Europe, this is so difficult), so if you see any mistakes please tell me.
> 
> And with that, enjoy.

[BEGIN TRANSMISSION.]

The future, apparently, is a spacious room full of technology. The door they came through slides shut behind the group of three. Allura, in the front, purposefully strides towards the center of the room, where a tall man with a large orange mustache is preoccupied with a trifecta of screens. 

Keith and Lance straggle behind, gaping at the room. It's like nothing they've ever seen before: larger than it seemed from the outside, with its walls pristine and white. Glowing lights are set into the wall, creating an unearthly glow. The whole room seems alien.

The silence is broken by a loud hum emanating from the center of the room. Keith and Lance turn towards the sound to see Allura placing her hands on top of two tall columns. The columns activate a holographic screen, glowing pale blue like the lights all around them. 

She beckons them closer with a graceful nod. "I am truly sorry that it took so long. Now I will give you the information you seek." 

Lance notices a tiny shift in Keith, standing next to him. His usually closed-off posture opens up as he leans forward in curiosity. Lance doesn't know what information Allura is talking about, but it's clearly pretty important to his new deskmate. Are they even going to share a desk? Who knows. This whole situation is confusing enough without the whole "everyone knows what's going on except Lance" thing.

Keith speaks up, leaning in and saying, "If this is related to my work, can we not say it in front of–" He waves towards Lance, as if to say "obviously I don't really trust this guy I just met, even though he's my new co-worker and definitely a really nice person who I haven't bothered to get to know, because if I had done that I would know that he's a Leo, he misses his mom’s garlic knots, and he enjoys long walks on the beach while the sun sets behind us".

Lance finally snaps. "Look, I know we just met, but I have absolutely no idea what's going on, no one has bothered to explain anything to me, at all, and I am not having a good time. Now if someone could give me the common courtesy of actually giving a shit, I would be much more understanding of whatever ludicrous crap you’re about to pull out of your ass.” 

Allura opens her mouth, but before she can object, Lance continues. “And yes, I’m pretty sure what you were about to say was going to be incredibly obscure and difficult to comprehend without prior knowledge because, first of all, Keith is unusually interested in something - and considering the fact that he seems like a pretty broody guy, I doubt that happens much - and second of all, this whole place is basically a technological wet dream. I know that because Hunk talks a lot about his designs and sometimes I pay attention. Anyways, before I get caught up in some crazy plan probably involving, I don’t know, flying robot cats in space or something, I want to know what exactly is going on here.” Lance takes a deep breath after all of that.

The mustachioed ginger finally speaks up. “Well, my boy, welcome to the Castle of Lions. My name is Coran. Perhaps I can help you out a bit while Allura and Keith have a little chat?”

X

Lance and Coran leave through a door to the left of the pedestal Allura was standing by, chatting animatedly as they go. Keith’s eyes linger on the lanky man’s retreating figure. His hands gesture wildly as he speaks, and his unrestrained laugh echoes through the halls differently, as if each room were a funhouse mirror, distorting the tone of his voice but still clearly Lance. 

Keith hates it. He hates that he’s interested in this man he’s only just met. He hates that someone out there, higher in the ranks than him (though honestly, who isn’t?), decided that he needed someone on his team. Keith is used to roughing it on his own, he doesn’t need help on much of anything. It’s not like people would understand his work anyway. Besides, Shiro’s been gone long enough for him to almost forget what it’s like to have backup. Why did it have to be Lance?

Lance is loud, irritating, flirty, and knows exactly how to put Keith on the defensive. Keith, on the other hand, is impatient, impassive, reckless, and deadly enough that if he had a “good side”, you’d want to be on it. In short, they make a terrible team, and they’ve only been around each other for a solid half hour, most of which was spent not making eye contact.

Keith can’t help feeling drawn to him. It feels as if some ancient force, full of magic and wonder, brought them together for a reason. One might call it destiny. Another might call it fate.

Keith? He calls it instinct. Something familiar, ingrained in his very being, that he can’t quite place but has always been there.

His back prickles under what seems like a million eyes, sizing him up and analyzing for any sign of weakness. He wrenches his gaze away from Lance’s departing form and towards the woman in front of him. 

Allura’s eyes bore into him, analyzing his expressions. Keith feels his face warm up under her scrutiny, and he fights it down as best he can, schooling his features into a neutral expression. 

Allura looks at him knowingly. “Perhaps this partnership will work out well.”

Keith stares back defiantly. “And maybe it won’t. Can we just talk business now that he’s gone?”

Allura brightens considerably. “Of course. Where would you like me to start?”

“What is this place, and why did you bring me here?”

“As Coran said, this is the Castle of Lions, the headquarters of our operation. You are here for a very specific reason, but I cannot tell you that just now.”

Keith rolls his eyes and grumbles, “Of course not. Top secret government stuff, whatever. Why me specifically?”

“Your record within the FBI is what led us to you. Our intervention was the only thing that kept you from being ejected out of the Bureau. However, your area of expertise was also needed. There are few people here who can do what you do. Anyone outside of the FBI could easily be compromised, despite constant talk of government censorship.”

“But why would you need a guy obsessed with aliens and cryptids on your team? That-” He cuts himself off. “You know what, I’ve heard weirder. Go ahead, I guess.”

“I cannot tell you everything until the team is assembled. But as I said before, I have some information you may seek.”

“Information on what? Mothman? A Bigfoot sighting in North Carolina or something? Believe me, Princess, I probably already know it,” Keith sneers. This whole situation seemed like a bust.

Allura heaves a long, drawn-out sigh. “Takashi Shirogane is alive. You will see him again soon, but I cannot promise when exactly that may be. And,” she adds, in a low and dangerous tone, “Do not call me Princess.”

Keith is speechless. He’s been receiving cases from the FBI for years, mostly concerning phenomena that no one else can explain, but the case of Takashi Shirogane’s disappearance hit the closest to home.

His brother has been missing for five long years. After the so-called “mission failure” that the FBI attributed to “pilot error” (as if Shiro, his brilliant prodigy brother, could make such a fatal mistake), Keith has fended for himself. The FBI almost kicked him out for “behavioral issues” (apparently, refusing to believe the government’s lies about his brother is “disruptive to other students”, which really makes people trust them more, right?). His piloting skills and genius intellect were what saved him. But since the FBI can’t let anyone know he still exists, they stuck him in a cramped room in the basement with nothing but a couple of desktop computers and a wifi router.

When Keith’s not working on one of the FBI’s cases, he works on his side project: figuring out what happened to Shiro and where to find him. He’s got a cork board just above his desk, covered in article clippings and red string. Most of the time, the connections are tiny, a key word or phrase in an unrelated article. But sometimes, there’s substantial evidence that link a sighting to his brother’s disappearance. 

It was easier to find good evidence five years ago. By now, the world has mostly forgotten Takashi Shirogane. Keith keeps hunting, getting more and more desperate as the years roll by.

And then this woman bursts in with every missing puzzle piece, the obscure ones and the ones he had hints to, the ones he almost found and the ones he never saw coming. She tells him that the most important piece, the one he’s been missing all this time, is Lance.

X

Katie Holt is a lonely genius. Her thirst for knowledge is only matched by her lack of patience for things she finds boring.

When the cold white walls of her room bore her, she covers them with paintings of bright forests and tall mountains and the glimmering depth of space.

When the lectures everyone else struggles with are subjects she learned in fifth grade, she drops out and teaches herself everything she needs to know. 

When her father and brother are busy getting ready for their mission, she learns everything she can and involves herself in the project.

The mission failure is her breaking point.

Sure, she’s a genius, but hacking the FBI would probably just put her on a watchlist that she doesn’t want to be on. 

So she infiltrates. She creates a new identity. She lives as Pidge Gunderson, as if Katie Holt never existed. At first, it hurts to not exist. But every day she gets closer to the truth, and the sharp pain dulls to an ever-present ache. Someday she won’t have to lie.

All things considered, today is a good day. The virus she’s been working on for almost a year had its first test run in the system, and since it hasn’t been detected yet she’s counting it as a win. If all goes well, she’ll be much closer to accessing the locked files on the main computer. The files from the mission that stole her father, her brother, and the best pilot she’s ever known. 

Turning away from her main screen, she looks towards the clock. It’s just before 5:30pm, and her phone buzzes to remind her to eat dinner. If it weren’t for that daily reminder, she would stay in the office all night. She stretches, cracking her back loudly, and rises from her seat. 

The computers need to be wiped clean, just in case, so she painstakingly pastes all of the files into a flash drive. All ten computers have to be wiped, and the monitors have to be physically clean. As the FBI’s techie, she’s required to take good care of each computer. The routine takes her around thirty minutes, since each computer is finicky in its own way. 

While cleaning off her main computer screen, she notices that her bottle of cleaning fluid is running low, and makes a mental note to add it to her shopping list. The FBI is happy to buy her new computers all the time, but for some reason they won’t cover the cost of the cleaning fluid. She grumbles at the thought of having to pay for such a trivial thing, and makes another mental note to include it in her weekly supply budget. 

She grabs her badge and phone, and heads out the door. Down the hall, she notices a tall rumpled man with a strange arm prosthetic, definitely not a commercial brand she’s ever seen before. Maybe a prototype or something, but the shape of it doesn’t look like any of the prototypes she’s used to.

He’s standing near the stairs, her usual exit, so she’ll have to interact with him at some point. She keeps walking, hoping he won’t notice her until the last second and she can breeze by.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t. “Excuse me, sir, but could you tell me which office belongs to a Pidge Gunderson?”

She sighs, taking out her badge. “That would be me. I was just headed out, what do you need?”

His face is steely, barely wrinkled, and his hair is an unnatural shade of silver. His entire appearance strikes her as odd, but he seems to be from the Bureau. When he speaks again, his teeth flashing bright white like the lights above them, he tells her, “I need you to help me with a project. It involves going behind the bosses’ backs, but a little birdie told me you were good at that.”

She scowls. “I don’t do freelance work, especially not for strangers. I’m leaving for the day, and you should, too.”

The man’s grin turns to a frown. “I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.”

Then her world dissolves into black.

[END SECOND TRANSMISSION.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My current goal is to write at least 2k words per chapter, so this chapter almost makes up for my less-than-2k first chapter. I also just really wanted to introduce Pidge/Katie.
> 
> Right now I'm really just winging it in terms of plot, but I'll have something solid down soon. Which means less random POV switching and more actual stuff (most of the POV switch is just to kill my writers block).
> 
> ALL feedback is awesome, but I especially love comments! Tell me what you liked! Yell about my latest cliffhanger! Please! It's late and I'm tired! Kudos and bookmarks and subscriptions make my day!
> 
> And last but not least, more news is available on my tumblr: @bakerthatstreet (one of these days I'll learn how to insert a link...)

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted the first chapter to be 2k+, but this was a better place to end (I hope). 
> 
> Comments and reviews will earn my undying love... as do kudos and bookmarks, but you know what I mean. Feedback is appreciated and encouraged.
> 
> Check me out on tumblr: @bakerthatstreet :^)


End file.
